


Railway

by AnathemaAuthoress



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Short One Shot, it's just porn, title is also meaningless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnathemaAuthoress/pseuds/AnathemaAuthoress
Summary: What a way to spend a Saturday.





	Railway

Morty’s fingers clutched the sheets. The fabric was starting to spread as fibers popped beneath clambering nails and bodies shifting too fast, pulling cloth too tight. “R-Rick,” he was whimpering. Of course, and how splendid it was, that sound.

It didn’t ease Rick’s pace at all, only drove him to slam his cock in all the way, each slick ridge like a sonic boom, blowing back resistance, dipping deeper to blast through invaded territory.

Morty started to shake. The flush ran all the way down his back. He could feel it with a stirring mixture of satisfaction and disgust. It was all just hot. Pleasure flooded to every pore, wrung out of him like it was being strangled. Sweat dripped down like water, icy just behind his knees but not enough to soothe the raging heat.

He saw the world in gyrating vision. The off-color walls of his room were blurred and obscured as he took them in via the sliding perspective of being dragged up and down his grandfather’s relentless prick. “Hah! Hah!” Breathing came in sounds, loud and desperate. Drawn out by satisfaction, but not satisfying themselves. His lungs felt tight, knees were locked, body lurched forward as his arms lost the strength to hold him. Yet he wanted, “More!”

The friction of the wetted sheets dragging beneath his chest were like icing, the cherry on top. It had hurt, then it hadn’t, now it did afresh, but he didn’t care. “S-splinter me open, Rick!” He moaned and it bounced around his throat, hitting octaves low and high. 

He meant his request. Pictured himself astride a splint, ready to slide down until he was cut in two. More accurately, he was like one of those rubber pencil toppers he always picked and pushed until his pencil broke through the top. 

He wondered how long it would for Rick to puncture him all the way through.

That wasn’t practical in the present situation. By Rick’s own accounts their actions, no matter how gutturally passionate or burningly erotic, were vanilla at best. He could have arranged to divide Morty’s atoms with ease, could have made his dick the conductor to issue the split, had he known the desire. Yet it was much more likely he was just going to cream his grandson’s sluthole with an old fashioned railing. “Hold on, Morty. I’m gonna make you–force you to cum again, Morty! You want that?” Rick gripped the globes of Morty’s ass and spread them wide before pistoning his hips forward. He rammed his huge cock between the beveled masses, watched as the skin gyrated, waved in glorious ripple effect. 

He repeated it, harder and harder, cracking drywall against the jittering side of Morty’s cheap-ass bed frame. “Say you fucking want it!” Rick growled with a demand that was harsh by usual fashion, but underwritten by primal lust.

“Ngh! Ah!” Morty’s head flew off the bed and backward, the crack of his neck was audible just before he bellowed out a howl to match the squeal of the bed all but collapsing beneath their weight. He could feel that mass pushing into everything, spreading him wide, so wide, so open. “I want it! I-I want you to make me cum! Rick!”

It wasn’t really a choice because his body was already going ridged, mind blanking out as his toes twitched, legs flexed upward, and his cock spat a sticky wave of mess along the curve of his stomach and down along the soiled sheets and surely soon-to-mold mattress.

Rick wasn’t long behind him and every shot was sent with a hard pulse of hips, bone digging into asscheek as the sharp angle of the older man let its presence be known. He dragged his nails there too, left uneven, craggy scrapes of red to swell on otherwise flawless skin. To mark the boy like handcrafted branding.

He didn’t feign decency and came as deep as he could to paint those plush inner walls with sticky white domination. He didn’t want Morty to just feel it going in, he wanted it to live in there deep, to struggle on the way out. Every second it stayed rooted was a second that Morty remembered what they had done. Would make him long for it all the more.

Rick pulled out slow and languid, allowed his limp rod to linger against the sore, bubbled red flesh of the stretched and breathing entrance. Then he rolled over, got his back locked against the wall and let himself be wedged there against Morty’s lax, panting form. “Wh-what a ride, Morty. What a–you know–what a way to spend a Saturday.”

Morty didn’t bother to lift his head up from where it had landed once his own completion had reached an end. He simply muttered against the sheets, “It’s Monday.”

Rick’s pupils blew out wide. He sat up straight. “Fuck! Fuck!”

With a reluctant groan Morty finally looked up, red face annoyed. “What?”

“No time, Morty! We’ll have to–have to discuss the sexual and philosophical ramifications of our actions another time, Morty! But now we need all the world’s jellyfish, Morty! All of them!”

“What the hell–?” Morty didn’t have time to question further as his naked and spent ass was yanked from bed in a hauling drag.

“No time to explain, Morty!” And didn’t that just fucking figure.

**Author's Note:**

> Things I write instead of sleeping or working on chapter fics. XD


End file.
